


Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

by lazyeggs



Category: GOT7
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Boys in Skirts, Comfort, Cute Mark Tuan, Fluff, Little Mark Tuan, M/M, Mark Tuan-centric, Multi, No Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bam puts him in a skirt bc uwu, if u sexualize age regression..... get off of my property, marks a sweetheart, soft boys :3, y - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyeggs/pseuds/lazyeggs
Summary: Turns out that their eldest friend and group-mate is a lot less ... old ... than they expected.--“Defsoul, huh? You’re just Beomie-appa’s biggest fan, aren’t you?” Jaebeom coos, pressing a kiss to the shorter boy’s head. Mark blushes and makes a noise between a whine and a squeal, because, yes, he is Defsoul’s biggest fanboy.





	Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

**Author's Note:**

> writing this fic is just gonnabe: my new coping mechNism djjdnd ( ˊ̱˂˃ˋ̱ ) mark is: Me Always !! he deserves all of his dongsaengs love  
> writing parts w/ sseun make me feel weird bc we have the same name but,,, whatevr  
> i hope u guys like this fic uwu  
> -jackson

Mark gasps and his eyes shoot open, jolting up in bed. 

“Hyung, we have a schedule today, you have to get up now, Jaebeom-hyung is waking the maknaes.” Jinyoung says to him, rubbing the elder’s knee through the thick, fluffy blanket. Mark’s heart pounds in his chest, his lungs burning and he feels hot.

He curls in on himself, knees pulled up to his chest as fat tears roll down his cheeks. He sniffs and rapidly tries to wipe them away with trembling hands. “Hyung? Why are you crying? What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” The younger panics, distress in his voice. Mark visibly flinches at the use of the honorific, a pathetic whimper escaping his throat. Jinyoung’s face softens along with his tone, and he pulls the elder into his embrace. “Mark, baby, Nyoungie is so sorry,” he sighs, and the older sniffles, relaxing into the younger’s chest, breathing still erratic. 

“ _E-eomma_...” he whines, fist grabbing at the beige fabric of Jinyoung’s sweater. He opens his mouth to add something, but all that escapes is a hiccup. 

“ _Shh,_ Markie baby, Nyoungie-eomma is here. Markie’s gonna be okay.” He whispers, one hand stroking the small boy’s back soothingly. “Can Nyoungie-eomma hurry right back? He needs to talk to _Jaejae-eomma_ and _appas_ and _hyungies_ ,” Jinyoung asks Mark, voice still the same gentle and comforting tone. The latter tightens his grip on his shirt with a sob, looking up at Jinyoung through his eyelashes beaded with tears. 

“D-don’t leave -“ he hiccups, “ - Markie, eo-eomma.” he pleads softly, legs curled around Jinyoung’s own. “Please?” He says with a slight lisp, voice barely audible and the younger wipes the tears from his eyelids and cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. 

“How about you come with eomma, then? Would you like that, baby?” 

Mark nods, murmuring a little  _yeah_ in english while he rubs his eyes on Jinyoung’s shoulder. The younger stands up, and Mark looks up at him with big eyes before raising his arms. 

“Uppie, eomma?” He asks softly and Jinyoung can feel his heart double in size. He picks up the shorter boy, and Mark giggles happily and wraps his legs around his waist. He nuzzles into his neck, arms draping lazily over Jinyoung’s shoulders. “L-love you, Nyoungie,” he slurs, voice soft and he presses a gentle kiss to Jinyoung’s cheek.

The younger feels his face heat up and he giggles a bit, returning the favor with a kiss on Mark’s forehead. 

The little squeals and squirms in his arms, resorting to hiding his face in Jinyoung’s neck once again. 

“Hyung.” Jinyoung calls as he enters the kitchen, Mark still clinging to his torso, eyes shut and probably falling back asleep. Jaebeom hums in acknowledgment. “Mark-yah is regressing.” Their leader turns around at that, face softening as he takes in the sight of their eldest clinging to Jinyoung like a baby koala. 

“Does he know we have a schedule today?” He asks Jinyoung while he pets Mark’s hair, cooing as the boy’s eyes flutter open sleepily, “Hi, baby,” 

“Beommie-appa!” Mark gasps, eyes widening and he lowers his legs from where they’re wrapped around Jinyoung until his feet touch the ground and he unravels his arms from the younger’s neck. He throws himself onto their leader, curling his arms around the taller man's waist and burying his head in his chest. Jaebeom pulls the older boy closer to his body with one hand on his back, the other hand resting in his hair.

"Jirongie said that Markie was feeling little, is that true?" Jaebeom chuckles, and Mark whines, trying to hide his face as much as possible, but it's pointless as he can still see the flushed tips of his ears. Jaebeom coos, stroking Mark’s hair and whining about how cute the older is, the latter complaining in little huffs and trying to swat his hand away, but he ignores it and crouches, taking Mark’s cheeks inbetween his palms. “We have to go to the studio soon, baby. Will Markie be okay?” He asks, smiling when Mark’s nosr scrunches in disapproval between his squished cheeks in Jaebeom’s hands. 

“Ma’kie can wear ‘ppa’s hoodie?” He asks sickeningly cutely, voice a few extra pitches higher as he looks at Jaebeom with wide, hopeful eyes.

The leader pretends to think for a moment before nodding and teling him that yes, he guesses that would be okay.

Mark squeals and wiggles out of his grasp, turning to run down the hallway. Jinyoung shouts after him not to run in the house because he could fall and get hurt, and he sighs because he knows that his words flew straight in one ear and right out the other. He expects to hear a thud followed by a sob, but instead he hears another squeal and a series of giggles. 

“ _Yah,_ you little monster, what do you think you’re doing?” He hears Jackson’s deep morning voice tease in a playful manner from the hallway. 

“ _Wha’ the heck, Hyu’gie!”_ Mark screeches, giggling uncontrollably as the younger lifts him and tosses him so he’s dangling off of one shoulder. The little flails his legs, but that doesn’t stop Jackson. “W-wait!” He gasps when he starts carrying him towards the living room. “N-need Beommie-appa’s hoodie,” he whimpers, legs halting and going limp, draping still across one of Jackson’s shoulders. 

“Yeah? Which one, love?” Jackson asks him, twirling back around in the direction of their leaders bedroom. 

“Mm... De’soul!” Mark decides as they enter the room, voice far too precious and Jackson wants to squeal like a fangirl and pinch his cheeks. He sets Mark down on Jaebeom’s bed, the boy humming quietly to himself and swinging his legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. 

Jackson turns towards the closet and rummages through some of the hangers before finding the one that their little baby requested, making a noise of acknowledgment and he pulls it off of the hanger. 

“Arms up, sweetie,” Jackson commands gently, the older boy blushing but complying, allowing the other man to slide off his sleep-shirt and replace it with the hoodie. Jaebeom’s hoodie is one size too big for Mark, so it’s a tad large on him, covering a fair amount of his hands but not so much that his fingers don’t poke out of them. 

Mark giggles and pulls the hood up to cover his head, purple hair messily strewn across his forehead. 

“Kiss, h’ungie?” He asks shyly, looking up at Jackson with flushed cheeks. 

“Hmm... where does my prince want his kiss?” Jackson questions, kneeling in front of the boy. “Maybe... here,” he thinks aloud, kissing Mark’s left cheek with a loud wet smooch noise. “Or here?” he repeats with the other cheek. He continues with Mark’s nose, forehead, even his chin, until the older boy is giggling and squealing, desperately trying to cover his face with his sleeves. “Aha - here!” Jackson gasps, as if he had made the biggest realization. He grabs Mark’s chedks, squishing them between his palms and pecks the boy’s lips.

”G-gaga!” Mark whines, face bright red and he giggles, leaning backwards and buryies his face in his sleeve-covered hands. “‘barassing,” he whispers, his shyness obvious in his voice. 

 

 

“Defsoul, huh? You’re just Beomie-appa’s biggest fan, aren’t you?” Jaebeom coos, pressing a kiss to the shorter boy’s head. Mark blushes and makes a noise between a whine and a squeal, because, yes, he is Defsoul’s biggest fanboy. 


End file.
